09-FURDRICK FIXIT'S SECRET

FURDRICK FIXIT'S SECRET At two o'clock in the morning, the phone rang. I was still half asleep. "Stilson, speaking, Geronimouse Stilson," I managed to mumble. It was Preston Pressmouse, the printer. "Mr. Stilton! The press has broken down! We can't print anymore!" he shrieked in my ear. "The Rodent's Gazette won't be ready for tomorrow!" I jumped out of bed. Now I was wide awake. What a nightmare! If the paper didn't come out, rodents might decide to read

福瑞克·菲克特的秘密凌晨两点钟，电话响了。 我还半睡半醒。“我是史迪森，我是老耗子史迪森。” 是印刷商普雷斯顿·普雷斯茅斯打来的。 ”斯第尔顿先生!新闻界已经崩溃了!我们不能再打印了!”他在我耳边尖叫。 “《啮齿动物公报》明天还不能出版!”我跳下床。 现在我完全清醒了。真是一场噩梦!如果论文没有发表，啮齿动物可能会决定阅读

another paper. They might like it better than The Rodent's Gazette. The Gazette would be DOOMED! I couldn't let that happen. I ran breathlessly to the pressroom. Rancid rat hairs! Preston was right. The machines were totally jammed! I called the technician, TERRY TECHRAT, but he was busy working on another broken printing press. I called his partner, but he was away on vacation. I called the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker. But no one was home. Doesn't any mouse believe in a good night's sleep anymore?

另一篇论文。他们可能比《啮齿动物公报》更喜欢它。 《公报》就完蛋了!我不能让这种事发生。 我上气不接下气地跑向印刷室。 腐臭的老鼠毛!普雷斯顿是对的。 机器完全卡住了!我打电话给技术人员特里·特克拉特(TERRY TECHRAT)，但他正忙着修理另一台坏掉的印刷机。 我给他的搭档打了电话，但他去度假了。 我给肉店老板、面包师和烛台师傅打了电话。 但是没有人在家。难道老鼠都不相信睡个好觉了吗?

I left the pressroom feeling beat. I decided to take the elevator to my office to think. I sat behind my desk, staring into space. My gaze fell on a stone sculpture of my grandfather WILLIAM SHORTPAWS, aka CHEAP MOUSE WILLY. He started the paper in his garage so many years ago. He had worked long and hard to make The Rodent's Gazette a success. I couldn't let him down now. But what could I do? I had to find some mouse who could fix a broken printing press.

我离开新闻发布室时感到筋疲力尽。 我决定乘电梯去我的办公室思考。 我坐在桌子后面，发呆。 我的目光落在我祖父威廉·短爪的石雕上，又名廉价老鼠威利。 很多年前他在车库里创办了这份报纸。 为了使《啮齿动物公报》大获成功，他付出了长期艰苦的努力。 我现在不能让他失望。 但我能做什么呢?我得找个会修坏印刷机的人。

Just then, I had an IDEA. I remembered an old printing technician from my grandfather's time. He had retired several years ago. His name was FURDRICK FIX IT. He was an incredibly sweet old mouse. Always squeaking a happy tune while he worked. Always lending a helping paw. I sent him a special cheese-scented holiday card every year. And now and then, I would give him a call to squeak about the old days. Now I called him in a panic. I told him about the broken printing press. "Could you come and look at it?" I begged Furdrick. "You are my last hope!"

就在那时，我有了一个主意。我想起了我祖父时代的一位老印刷技师。 他几年前就退休了。 他的名字叫福瑞克，修理它。 他是一只非常可爱的老老鼠。 他工作时总是唱着欢快的曲子。 总是伸出援助之手。 我每年都给他寄一张特别的奶酪香味的节日贺卡。 时不时地，我会给他打个电话，跟他聊聊过去的日子。 现在我惊慌失措地打电话给他。 我把印刷机坏掉的事告诉了他。 “你能过来看看吗?”我恳求福瑞克。 “你是我最后的希望!”

Five minutes later, Furdrick arrived. He practically skipped into the PRESSROOM. I could tell he was thrilled to be there. After all, he had worked at The Rodent's Gazette for forty years. It was like his second home. He stooped over the broken machine. He tapped his cane on one side of the press, then the other. "Ah, yes, the old RAT-PRINT 500," he announced. "This is the same machine I printed on years ago! I remember it well!" I nodded. "That's right, Furdrick," I agreed. "It is the same old press. Can you fix it?" Furdrick threw me a sly grin. "Does a mouse eat cheese on Thanksgiving?" he asked. I figured that meant yes. The old mouse put his paw around my shoulder. "My dear Geronimo," he began, "I know a trick to get

五分钟后，福瑞克来了。 他几乎是蹦蹦跳跳地走进了新闻发布室。 我能看出来他很激动。 毕竟，他在《啮齿动物公报》工作了四十年。 这里就像他的第二个家。 他弯下腰看那台坏了的机器。 他用手杖敲了一下压力机的一边，然后又敲了一下另一边。 “啊，是的，老式的RAT-PRINT 500，”他宣布。 “这就是我几年前打印的那台机器!”我记得很清楚!”我点了点头。 “没错，福瑞克。”我表示同意。 “还是老样子。 你能修好它吗?”福德里克对我狡猾地笑了笑。 “老鼠在感恩节吃奶酪吗?”他问。 我想这意味着可以。老老鼠把爪子搭在我的肩膀上。 “我亲爱的杰罗尼莫，”他开始说，“我知道一个诡计